Chapter 9

"Stop It!"

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]

Fihn awoke to a pounding headache and a bone-chilling cold that seeped into his very marrow. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to focus his blurry vision. He found himself hanging from the ceiling, wrists bound above his head in a position both excruciating and uncomfortable. He was completely naked, exposed to the frigid air of a makeshift, dismal cell constructed from ice blocks and recycled materials. The faint light that filtered through tiny openings cast spectral shadows on the uneven walls. In one corner, the torn remnants of his Hommss Republic uniform lay abandoned in a heap of wood scraps and rubbish.

Fihn attempted to flex his legs to alleviate the strain on his shoulders, but the movement sent a jolt of pain through his joints. He looked around, disoriented, until his gaze landed on the adjoining cell, separated by a narrow corridor. There, similarly suspended, hung Xiahom. He was unconscious, hanging sideways with his head bowed and his body covered in bruises and cuts. He appeared to be bleeding from one eye and his mouth. Fihn suppressed a groan at the sight of the dark bruises marring his companion's arms and abdomen.

The young recruit tried to scream, but his parched throat barely emitted a hoarse whimper. He breathed heavily, each exhale forming a cloud of vapor in the icy air. Time passed slowly, and Fihn knew not how long he remained there, shivering with cold and pain. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor, and two burly guards appeared escorting a man whom Fihn recognized. It was Kanesson, the son of Prince Kane. The newcomer halted in front of Xiahom's cell, regarding the unconscious soldier with disdain. After a moment, Kanesson turned and approached the bars of Fihn's cell, leaning against them with an air of nonchalance.

—I see you've woken up, little man — he said with a mocking smile. —How's your stay? Need anything to drink? Or perhaps a bit of food?—

Fihn glared at him with hatred and spat contemptuously:

—Go fuck yourself, fucking bastard!"

His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but fury blazed in his eyes. Kanesson let out a slight chuckle at the prisoner's defiance.

—You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that — he said, shaking his head. He continued, —But... I think your friends don't seem to have them anymore — One of the guards opened Xiahom's cell, grabbed him by the neck, and, still unconscious, turned him so that his body faced Fihn's horrified gaze. Fihn saw with shock and horror that Xiahom's testicles had been amputated; coagulated, blackened blood clung around his groin area, cascading down like dried waterfalls to his feet. Pieces of torn skin hung below his penis. Fihn was horrified.

Kanesson kept his gaze fixed on him. —Let me warn you... things are going to get much worse... believe me —

Fihn felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. Kanesson's words etched into his mind, and faced with such a sight, his legs weakened, and he fell into tremors and panic.

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]

Meanwhile,

Central Military Base of the Republic of Hommss

Lieutenant Khalheim sat in a chair, without his outer mask or lieutenant's cap. In front of him, three high-ranking officers observed him with severe and intimidating expressions. The officers wore dark, gleaming uniforms adorned with numerous decorations and badges denoting their high rank. Their shoulders were imposing, as was their exaggerated muscularity. Their faces were chiseled in stone, hard and impassive, as they listened to Khalheim's account.

The lieutenant attempted to explain what had happened in the Principality of Kane, but the words stuck in his throat. He could feel cold sweat sliding down his back as the officers remained in tense silence.

—Gentlemen, I've already told you, the mission turned into a complete disaster, we couldn't...— Khalheim stuttered, rubbing his hands nervously. —We were ambushed from the walls. We didn't stand a chance... The Diplomat and the protection group were killed —

One of the officers, a burly man with a scar crossing his face, narrowed his eyes.

—And what does that matter, Lieutenant?— he commented coldly. —The only relevant thing here is that you allowed over ninety percent of your squadron to perish in a major expansion mission —

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Khalheim swallowed hard, unable to find an adequate response. His mind had gone blank, paralyzed by fear and guilt. Another officer, a thin man with a steely gaze, stood up and walked slowly towards Khalheim. He placed a hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, gripping tightly.

—Lieutenant Khalheim, due to your incompetence and utter failure, you will be immediately demoted and suspended for thirty days — he declared in a chilling tone.

Khalheim looked up, incredulous.

—But sirs, we need more capable and better-equipped squads. We can't carry out operations like this with mostly rookie soldiers, because otherwise, a massacre like this will happen. We're at war with the Principality of Kane, sirs. We need to do something! —

The third officer, a middle-aged man with a gaze as hard as steel, slowly shook his head.

—There is no war, Lieutenant. Just your incompetence —

Before Khalheim could reply, the officer holding his shoulder drew a revolver and aimed it directly at the lieutenant's head. Khalheim's eyes widened in horror, but he had no time to react.

A deafening roar thundered through the room as the officer squeezed the trigger. The bullet cleanly pierced Khalheim's skull, splattering blood in all directions. The lieutenant crumpled like a rag doll, hitting the floor with a dull thud as a scarlet pool formed around his shattered head. The three officers surveyed the scene without a shred of emotion on their faces. One of them squatted down and wiped his boot clean on the blood-soaked uniform of the deceased Khalheim.

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]

Later that night

Principality of Kane

Night had fallen over the Principality of Kane, and the settlement was illuminated by the glow of bonfires and recycled solar-powered lamps. In the distance, near the outer walls, stood an almost perfectly rectangular structure housing the undesirables of Kane's prosperous society. From outside, harrowing screams of agony rent the chill air.

Inside, Fihn writhed in a sea of indescribable pain. His desperate cries echoed off the walls as two guards firmly held his ankles, pinning him to the floor. A third guard, clutching a razor-sharp dagger, loomed over him, methodically slicing his skin. The dagger's blade sliced through Fihn's flesh with chilling ease, opening bloody furrows across his bare torso. The young soldier watched in horror as his pale body became streaked with red, blood gushing forth from the deep wounds covering his chest, abdomen, back, and legs.

Fihn wept ceaselessly, begging between screams for them to stop, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The guards continued their sadistic task, leaving rippling patterns of cuts in the prisoner's flesh.

In the narrow, dimly yellow lamp-lit hallway stood Kanesson, observing the scene with an impassive expression. His cold, indifferent gaze reflected no emotion at the horrific sufferings he witnessed. They were despicable beings coming to destroy his life and the society built by his beloved ancestors.

After a few moments, Kanesson turned and beckoned another guard posted in the hallway with a wave of his hand.

—Execute him — he ordered, gesturing toward the cell where Xiahom still hung from the ceiling, screaming hysterically for them to stop torturing Fihn.

The guard nodded without hesitation and entered Xiahom's cell. An instant later, a gunshot boomed through the air, silencing the veteran soldier's screams forever. Fihn heard the thundering weapon and a heart-wrenching sob escaped his nearly flayed throat. He had lost all hope, his world reduced to an endless hell of pain. With each slice of the dagger, he felt his life seeping away a little more, blood pooling in a dark puddle beneath his mutilated body.

Through the haze of suffering, Fihn watched as his comrades fell one by one, slaughtered without mercy. His mind clouded, unable to process the massacre he was witnessing. All that remained was the unspeakable torment consuming him, slicing him to pieces as his soul tore along with his flesh. He lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the settlement, the main hall of Kane's small Royal Palace was a hubbub of whispers and furtive glances. The most prominent leaders of the Principality - the entire royal family - had gathered around an imposing carved wood table, the atmosphere thick with tension and apprehension. Shadows danced across the craggy faces of the patriarchs and matriarchs, their names echoing like whispers of the past in the farthest reaches of the white desert settlement.

One of the eldest, the third son of the second generation, his voice as gruff as crunching snow underfoot, broke the silence with a grim declaration:

—That so-called Republic of Hommss won't be long before they attack us again. We must be prepared to defend what is ours...they won't last before invading us —

A murmur of assent rippled through the room as another of the leaders, his face etched by years of wisdom and leadership, spoke up:

—I propose we increase vigilance along our walls and borders. We must fortify our defenses and prepare for the worst. We cannot allow them to take us by surprise —

The meeting was reaching its crescendo. The voices of men and women rose and fell like crashing waves, each contributing their experience and knowledge in the search for a solution to the Republic's threat.

—We must defend ourselves as we did in the past from the damn Yaharza raiders!— one matriarch roared, slamming her gloved fist on the table. —Hommss does not know the strength of our free people's resolve!—

Another leader, a steely-eyed woman with silver hair, cut in with a firm voice:

—Brothers, sisters, cousins, fathers, and mothers - we must not give in to fear or unbridled hatred. Our people have survived even harsher trials in the past. We will endure as we always have, resisting adversity and the elements —

A murmur of approval coursed through the hall, but was soon silenced by the towering figure of Prince Kane rising slowly to his feet like a giant. All eyes turned expectantly to their leader. Kane surveyed the room with his piercing gaze, his voice resounding off the walls.

—My loyal family. The Principality of Kane has endured through the decades because of our unbreakable strength and indomitable spirit. We have faced even greater challenges and prevailed, as some have said...—

He paused, allowing his words to sink in like ice seeping into bones.

—That damn Republic does not know the true power beating in our hearts. They have gravely underestimated us, thinking we would surrender to a measly scrap of filthy paper. We will annihilate them without letting them escape - I know they will return, we know they will, they will want to subjugate us. But that...will be their undoing —

A roar of approval erupted in the hall, the leaders pounding the table with their fists and cheering Prince Kane. He looked upon them with a ferocious gaze, jaw set in determination.

—We will reinforce our defenses and increase vigilance along our borders. But we will not merely wait for an attack from those wretches in disguise. We will show them that Kane is a formidable adversary, an unstoppable force in the white desert —

His words rang like a war oath, igniting the fires of pride and resolve in the heart of everyone present.

—Prepare yourselves, Kane family! For the storm is coming, and we shall be its relentless fury! For the Principality of Kane! Spread the word - the entire settlement must prepare for the great defense! —

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]2024 © LJ Kauffmann